Racing from Death and Celebrating Life

Three years ago I was diagnosed with Indolent Non-Hodgkin's B-Cell Lymphoma. “Indolent” is the magic word here, as it means lazy, idle, or sluggish. And thank God it’s a couch-potato cancer or I would have an aggressive, severe disease that would probably have already killed me.

I recently moved with my husband to Aiken, South Carolina, and needed a new house, a new driver’s license, new insurance, and new doctors. I hated giving up my Maryland oncologist, Doctor Selonick, as he is a brilliant cancer doctor who teaches medical students and oncology staff at Johns Hopkins.  

Oncology Pavilion at Aiken Regional Medical Center

There are only two oncologists in Aiken, a Turk and a Pakistani, both of whom received their degrees in their native countries. My new primary doctor, a woman named Doctor Kulik, who I still haven’t met, referred me to the Pakistani, Doctor Ahmed Gill. I had misgivings. 

I got an appointment and met Doctor Gill. Swarthy, with a beard, he had wonderful intelligent eyes and a kind face. He was astonished when I said my lymphoma had presented itself as bilateral tumors in my lungs. Nowhere else. My case was so unusual it was presented to Johns Hopkins in 2010, so I guess I have to cut Gill a little slack.

Gill was concerned that I’d had only chest scans during the last three years. He insisted I have a PET scan to make sure the cancer had not popped up elsewhere. 

PET Scan Machine. Just love being swallowed by this thing!

“PET scan: a positron emission tomography scan. A unique type of imaging test that helps doctors see how organs and tissues inside your body are actually functioning. The test involves injecting a very small dose of a radioactive chemical, called a radiotracer, into the vein of your arm. The tracer travels through the body and is absorbed by the organs and tissues being studied.” 

As I understand it the chemical also contains sugar and cancer loves sugar. I believe that any organ with cancer lights up like a carnival. Now you have another reason to cut back on sugar: cancer loves to eat sugar.

The test was scheduled, and the waiting began. Wait for the scan, wait for the results. Wait, wait, wait, all the while feeling heavier and more frightened. A week after the scan, I cooled my heels in the waiting room with other cancer patients. Two cups of coffee later, I was shown into an examination room by a male nurse who was holding my chart. My chart! He put the papers onto a small desk outside my room and closed the door. I waited. I sat in the chair, I stood up, I opened the door and peeked at the chart on the table. Two nurses came down the hall. I scurried back inside. 

I sat in that room like a sheep and then I thought, “What would Nikki do?” I darted from the room, grabbed the chart, sat down, and read the radiology report. 

No cancer in the body, except the radiologist noted the middle lobe of the right lung had a 1.3 centimeter nodule. The uptake on the radioactive sugar was fairly minor, but of some concern.

Okay, this was the old one, right? I’d had a bunch of tumors and Selonick had treated me with Rituxan. The drug and knocked out all the tumors save one, which was essentially just residue. Selonick’s last test had shown a withered shrunken thing compared to the first reading in 2010. But damn it, I couldn't remember the last recorded size. Was the current 1.3 bigger? Was the cancer growing again? 

I didn’t know the answers to those questions. I did know I didn't want to be caught with the chart.

I opened the door and scanned the hall. Nobody. I whisked the chart back onto the table and disappeared into my room and waited some more.

When Doctor Gill came in, he told me what I already knew. I gave him an okay-and-this-means-what-exactly look, and I got nothing. He said he would have to compare this latest test to the records from Maryland.

“You mean you have not received my records from Maryland?” I was incredulous. “You haven’t spoken to Doctor Selonick?” 

Apparently Gill had wanted to get the PET scan results before he did anything. But he showed himself to be a pretty cool dude. He picked up the phone and called, Selonick, although I could tell by his expression he never expected to reach another oncologist so easily. But Selonick took the call and the two doctors had a ten minute conversation, including sociable facts like Selonick’s wife is from Sumter, South Carolina. Selonick is very personable that way. And I knew he probably was in an examining room with an anxious patient who was ready to strangle him while he spoke to Gill. God knows he took plenty of calls in the examining room when I was his patient. 

I almost hugged Gill when I heard him ask Selonick, “What do you recommend?” No prima donna in this Aiken office. He was more concerned about his new patient than playing a game of “who’s the best doctor?” Turns out that the last time I had a chest scan the tumor residue was 1.5 centimeters. The miserable little monster is still shrinking! Gill and Selonick agreed the best course of action is to wait six months, take another chest scan and if all is fine, wait another six months and so on.

I got in the car, drove myself home, and when Rosco met me at the door, I bust into tears.  

THE NEXT MORNING: What a difference a day makes.

The Darley two-year-olds "backing up" on their way to the gate.

The next day I got up very early, put Rosco in the car, and off we went to the Aiken’s "Breakfast at the Gallops" event. 

Aikenites on the rail watching the youngsters gallop.

I met some great new people, 

The legendary Cot Campbell, who moved to Aiken 26 years ago.

Two of Cot Campell's stretch their legs on the Aiken mile track.

celebrated life, and Rosco vacuumed up stray biscuit crumbs. He also got to see a lot of horses, meet a Pomeranian, two Skye Terriers and a Welsh Corgi. A most excellent experience for both of us.

But I think the best thing I saw was afterwards. I stopped at the Darley stables and saw their two-year-olds turned out together, just being horses, not locked into stalls 23 hours a day. Awesome!

A paddock at Darley Stables, Aiken, SC.

One of the Darley Barns at Aiken.

UPCOMING SASSCER HILL EVENTS

June 23, 2012


Book signing at Colonial Downs Racetrack in New Kent, Virginia on Saturday night. It's "Ladies Night," so it's free for all the gals and for children twelve and under. And there will be both turf and dirt stakes races that evening! The Buckland and the Chesapeake for fillies and colts respectively, with each race carrying a purse of $50,000.00.  


Sasscer will be signing her new mystery novel "Racing from Death" as well as the Agatha and Macavity nominated "Full Mortality." The event will take place in the Colonial Downs gift shop just inside the track's main entrance from six p.m. to ten p.m.


If your vacationing in Williamsburg, at Virginia Beach, golfing, or live in the Richmond area, come on by! The racing, dining, and ambiance at Colonial is tops.

Sasscer on Colonial's Jumbotron  in July, 2010

BOUCHERON! OCTOBER 4-7, 2012 

Sasscer will be appearing at this very popular mystery convention, held this year in Cleveland, Ohio, at the downtown Marriott Renaissance hotel. Schedule to be posted.

Lee Child with Sasscer, Bouchercon 2010

Here is the Bouchercon web site link: http://www.bouchercon2012.com/

SASSCER HILL GOES TO THE PREAKNESS!

On May 19, I squeezed into the suit my sister bought me fifteen years ago and grabbed my Preakness ticket.

The magic ticket.

 
I cranked up my 2000 Lincoln, and though the car has clocked over 150,000 miles, the motor still kicks obligingly when I hit the pedal. Like a good old horse, the car ferried me to Harwood to meet my ride to the races.  


My Turfside Terrace ticket included seats at a table near the finish line, a tasty meal, and more free water and sodas than I'd consume in a year. Booze, unfortunately, was extra, and my table was not the same as that of my traveling companions. But I counted my blessings. Especially when I discovered the people at my new table were all male and younger than me!

Sasscer Hill intending to have fun!

These guys were there to handicap the races and bet. They were extremely polite and were not hard drinkers. How lucky can a gal get?

Two of my table companions.

Four more of my table companions. Nobody had fun -- you can tell right?

 I spent some time with my niece Alidia Clagett and her beau, Jim.

For a while, I  sat with childhood friend Christy, and sports photographer Isabel Kurek. But mostly, I watched the track

A turf stake on Preakness Day!

Horses ready to break on one of the undercard stakes.

Not long before the Preakness and after an excellent meal, two vodkas, and two  brownies, I decided to venture into the infamous Preakness Infield. Sadly, I didn’t find Kegasus. 

Kegasus

But there there were plenty of other irrationally exuberant people and the way-cool band Maroon 5. I pushed my way as close as I could get to Maroon 5 as they performed live on stage, until the sweaty, often scantily-clothed-crowd closed in one me. It contained some interesting characters.

Interesting Character.

The infield mob and the Maroon 5 stage.  

About the time I decided I might be past my rock-concert-prime, I spotted a man in a natty, green jacket who looked like he was attempting to escape. I inched over to him.


“You don’t look like you belong out here,” I shouted.  


“Not really. I’m trying to leave,” he yelled back.


I hooked a few fingers on his sleeve and let him tow me toward the distant exit. About the time Maroon 5 began playing “Moves Like Jagger,” some gals in dresses with fancy hats, and a couple of sharp-dressed men materialized out of the crowd. 


Next thing I knew, we'd had formed a conga line and were dancing our way to safety. We boogied right on out of there, and I have to confess it was the most fun I’ve had in some time. 

"The Man in the Natty Green Jacket," and other dancing escape artists.

Then it was time to get serious. A Grade One, Triple Crown race was on the line. I was so close, I got a few pictures with my tiny camera.

Bringing them over for the Preakness!

Mike Smith and Bodemeister

Right before the race, one of the guys at my table looked up and said, “I’ll Have Another is going to win this race.” 


The way he said it, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. Then I saw the horse in the post parade. He had his game face on. Anyone could see he intended to win!

       
                                                 And he did . . . .

Matt Wooley catches the winner, and the winner catches Bodemeister!

MALICE DOMESTIC 2012: Malicious Highlights

Just returned and still recovering from the 2012 mystery conference, Malice Domestic.
Sending out congratulations to Agatha Best Novel winner, Margaret Maron for her 2011 “Three-Day Town.” Go Margaret!

 Margaret Maron shown last year keeping the Agatha Best First  nominees under her wing.

Hooray for Sara J. Henry, who just won the Agatha Best First Novel for her book, “Learning to Swim.”

Author Sasscer Hill and Agatha Best First Novel winner
Sara J. Henry

 And kudos to my friend  Leslie Budewitz for winning the Agatha for Best Non-fiction with “Books, Crooks and Counselors: How to Write Accurately About Criminal Law and Courtroom.”

Leslie Budewitz, Best Non Fiction!

 Some of the highlights:

 A trash-bag-straight-jacket saved my silk suit. The delightful author of "Chihuahua of the Baskervilles," Esri Allbritten and I decided to skip out on the expensive Malice Banquet and go to an inexpensive Indian restaurant across the street. Unfortunately, rain poured onto the street while we were eating Tandoori lamb.

This is why they call the conference "Malice Domestic." Pictured above is my friend and panel referee "Alan 'the Whistle' Orloff," totally failing to keep me under control. This pic is from the "Three Strikes and Your Out" panel of sports mystery authors. 


Below, schmoozing with mystery writer, Parnell Hall, author of the popular "Steve Winslow" series. 

Me and Becky Hutchinson. I lost those glasses, if anyone found them, let me know!

Two great gals! Sisters in Crime members Ellet Logan 
and Ellen Byerrum.

My favorite publisher! John Betancourt of Wildside Press! 

Jack Cater, marvelous moderator of "Malice Go Round" led us through a maze of madness!

The Guppy lunch!

Me and Judy Hogan, whose new book comes out soon!!